Grand Theft Auto: New Vice, New Sin
by blackORION
Summary: Years after the reconstruction of Vice City into the true city of sin, New Vice, we follow Kaden Rae as he searches for answers when his already unstable world is shaken to its core. Chapter II added!
1. Prologue

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own or have any direct or in-direct affiliation to Take-Two Interactive, it's subsidaries, including but not limited to Rockstar games and Rockstar North. I do not own the Grand Theft Auto Franchise or any characters, places, vehicles etc, created for the use of the franchise.

_**Prologue.**_

Never in many millennia, did I ever imagine it to come down to this. I stared my own brother in his eyes, his cold, dead eyes, as he aimed the barrel of his heavy-duty, semi-automatic Desert Eagle right at my heart. Here, as I stood, I asked myself the question - was I willing to wipe my brother, the last person who shared my flesh and blood away from existence? There seemed to be only one right answer, because we both knew, that if I didn't kill him, he would kill me. I had already had the blood of hundreds more men on my hands... his blood, would just be added to it. I had to wipe from my mind, everything we had shared, everything we had gone though, right there on the spot. But how could one bring himself to erase thirty-one years from his life? Well, regardless of how I planned on doing it... _I had to do it_. A sinister grin stretched upon his unfamiliar face,

"So? Are you going to stand there and take it without a fight, Kaden?" he asked me, "Because you and I both know that the more you struggle, the more I'm going to make it hurt. The second that you reach into your holster, I can clip you right in the knee and watch you hit the floor in a crippled heap." he said, waving the barrel of his pistol around and aiming it at my leg. I knew that he would indeed do it without hesitation. I needed to improvise somehow. In the holster strapped to my chest was my Jericho 941 pistol, however he was drawn, cocked and ready to fire. I examined the room the surrounded me, looking for perhaps something I could use to save me some time. "I'm not going to wait any longer, Kaden. You're silence speaks volumes and it tells me, that you're just about ready to die." I had to hold him off... but I was just about out of time. He began counting down from five. I was desperately scanning the office, there had to be something--_four_--I needed something, now--_three_--behind my visage, I was panicking, but I couldn't let him see that--_two_--that's it--two--it was now or never...

... _one_...

"It was good knowing you, Kaden."

Wait--I can't start from there. In order for you to know exactly why this is happening... I need to take you back to the beginning of my story.


	2. Chapter I

_**Chapter I**_

New Vice. Since the city's reconstruction and renaming, it seems what was once a sunny paradise with nothing more than a seedy underworld, had totally gone to shit. The so-called underworld was now on the top of the food chain and the meaning of the word "sin" was re-defined, just to suit New Vice. Corruption and paranoia were rampant; cops, locals, politians, you name them, they were probably the bad guys. True, there were a select few that I could definitely say were honest people, but I personally knew none of them. But hell, they had to be here, if not, this city would've collapsed on top of itself by now, so there are at least a few faces that are managing to keep law and order. Was I one of them? You could say I found myself a little on the fence with that. An ex-Marine-turned-VCPD detective, you could say that I had a very frayed moral fibre within me... but it could only withstand so much more. I tried to make an honest life, but like everyone else, I was no saint...

I was only human.

There I sat on the hood of my '86 Sabre Turbo, gazing off at the setting sun as it sank below the horizon, fading into a dim orange glow. That was one of the few pure things left in this city—every day, I came here, to Vice Beach and found myself admiring the last, weak grip I had on morality and substance. Without sitting here and re-examining everything and everyone, I would've certainly been lost to sin by now. As the sun finally sank below the thin blue line, I decided to call it a day. I got into my car and revved up the engine. As I slipped on my pair of Aviators just for the style of it, a girl approached the driver's-side window of my car—she leaned in and I could practically smell the stench of whore on her,

"Hey, honey. You lookin' for a good time?" she asked me, as seductively as she possibly could. I grinned and looked at her darkened image from behind my sunglasses,

"Sure thing." I said, and she followed up with a smile, but I went on to say; "Just not with you. Go, clean yourself up and get a real job, would you?" I pulled a hundred out of my wallet and slipped it into her cleavage, "Here, and since you didn't need to do anything to get it… how about we keep this little transaction a secret, alright?" after her initial expression of shock and insult, she turned to a smile, and said,

"Thanks hon." I nodded my head and rolled up the window, to avoid any advances from any more of them. I only had so much money I could give to these women. It was a rather short drive from Vice Beach to my apartment, which was right on the shore of Ocean Beach. I slipped my car into the garage and headed inside. As I stepped in, I noticed the blinking red light of the answering machine, I took a quick guess;

Ryan.

Poor girl, apparently one sexual fling while in a drunken stupor wasn't good enough of an excuse for her to take the hint that I wasn't interested. In the prospect of being definite, I pressed the "play" button on the machine, to find that I was right. The second I heard her voice, I clicked "delete" and the message stopped in mid-sentence as it was erased from the memory. I unbuckled my leather holster that was strapped to my chest and dropped it, pistol and all, onto the kitchen table. I opened my fridge and pulled out a chilled bottle of brew, before popping the crown and throwing it back... but I was interrupted by a knock at my door. Setting down the beer, I headed to my door, a little confused, as I didn't usually get visitors. I had the urge to grab hold of my Jericho 941, just in the off chance that it was Ryan, stalking me to the point that she had found my house. In short, if it was her at the door, I was going to shoot her. I slowly opened the door, and I noticed two uniformed police officers. I recognised them as two from my precinct. One of them was a fifteen year veteran on the force--the other was his rookie, right out of the Academy.

"Good evening guys." I greeted, "I really didn't expect to see you two tonight." but the two of them didn't appear to be in any mood for a chat, "Is there some sort of problem?" I asked,

"Detective Rae." said the rookie, "We have a warrant for your arrest." Those words shook me.

"Arrest? Arrest for what?" I asked. The senior officer looked at me gravely and said, "For the murder of Officer Jayson Rae."

--

I sat in the interrogation room, still bewildered at what I had heard. And even though, hearing about the arrest warrant was shocking enough, when I heard the name that followed it, I felt to collapse on the spot.

Jayson.

My brother. My older brother Jayson Rae. I spent my entire life walking in his footsteps, from day one. The day he became a cage fighter, I followed after him like a puppy. The day he joined the marines I scurried behind him. The day he joined the VCPD... well, you get the idea. I hadn't heard about it, until the two officers found themselves on my doorstep. The door to the room open and in stepped my captain. There was so much that I wanted to--that I needed to ask him. I felt the urge to jump out of me seat and beg him for answers, but I had to keep cool. He sat down in the aluminium chair that was opposite to me, some files shuffling in his hand. He threw the files onto the table in front of me--I opened them and looked inside. In the files were photographs, of what I assumed was a car-bombing. I looked up to the captain, pure bewilderment on my face.

"Captain, what the hell is this?" I asked him,

"These." he began, "These Kaden, are photographs from the scene, where your brother was assassinated."

"What is this, some kind of joke?" I questioned, what he was telling me couldn't have honestly been the truth, could it?

"Do you see me fucking laughing, Kaden?" his face was as grave as death, "Your brother's car was blown-up, with him inside of it, this evening."

"What?" This couldn't have honestly been happening. Jayson was really killed by a car-bomb? How? By who? "Captain, you don't honestly think that I did this, do you?" I asked him in desperation,

"Kaden, I don't know what to think. There is so much evidence against you, that it would be ludicrous to bring reasonable doubt into this." he replied,

"What evidence?" everything he was telling me was foreign. I had no knowledge of any bombing until a few moments ago.

"One; an anonymous tip from a witness that said they saw you doing something in Jayson's car..."

"You've got to be fucking kidding me!" I interrupted,

"Don't cut me off, Kaden!" he barked, "On top of that, we found your prints on the inner workings of the pipe as well, as the coup de gras; a bullet in Jayson's body that matches the ammunition from your firearm."

I felt to throw up. I was being framed... I knew that for a fact. The only question wasn't who would want to kill my brother and frame me, but which one of the hundreds of criminals we had managed to piss off during out years on the force. I spent the last few moments, begging for some kind of help from my captain, but he wouldn't hear it. He was one of my biggest fans, but it seemed that he had lost all faith in me, when he heard of this. After I had a talk with the A.D.A. and my incompetent defence attorney, I found myself being dragged off by the same two officers that brought me here, my hands cuffed behind my back. As I passed each officer and detective I had learned to call my friend, I felt hurt as they stared at me with looks of distaste and hate. As I was being carried off, I realised that I didn't belong here... I didn't deserve what they were giving me... I had to get away. I looked around for a moment, scanning my environment... I had to find someway to get out of this mess...

... the rookie. If I was going to throw anything out there, he had the least chance of seeing it coming. I contiuned to walk along in their hold for a few more moments, planning out my escape. It wasn't going to be easy, but it was all or nothing. Suddenly, I stopped in my tracks, and the two of them along side me stopped with me. Out of nowhere, I leapt into the air, carrying my cuffed hands beneath my feet in true martial arts-fashion before landing solidly on the ground and elbowing both officers in their respective jaws with my elbows, before pivoting and finding myself behind the stunned rookie. I brought my cuffed wrists over his head and wrapped the chain 'round his throat, before tightening it. I didn't want to have to do this to the poor kid, but I had no other choice. He was clawing in front of him, gasping for air. I then heard the clicks of tens of pistols being cocked and readied for fire. However, this kid was my meat shield, and none of them looked like they were going to fire... corrupt cops or not, it wouldn't look good to find out that they peppered a young kid with shells, just to get me. I whispered into the rookie's ear,

"Listen. You help me out and I'll let you go, got it?" and I slackened my hold over his trachea to let him answer,

"Y-yes." he said in a quick gasp for air,

"Good. You have the keys to the squad car, so come with me, open the car and put the keys in the ignition for me. If you either refuse or try to be a hero, I'm going to snap your neck--though I haven't decided whether to do it before or after I strangle you to death." I wasn't kidding.

The rookie nodded and looked prepared to back out of the precinct with me behind him. We both backed out of the front door, and parked at the street corner was the squad car he and the other officer brought me in. He did as I instructed and opened the door, as well placed the keys in the ignition and turned on the engine.

"Good work." I said, "Look, I didn't enjoy doing this, but quite frankly, it was either me, or you, understand?" the rookie nodded again, "Good." I said, "You know, you're a good kid... I'm sorry we had to officially meet under these circumstances." and with that, I looked as if I was about to let the rookie, go, but in the blink of an eye, I rammed him, face-first into the driver's-side window of the squad car, knocking him out. He hit the ground, an unconcious heap and in that only spare second I had, I grabbed his firearm from his hip holster got into the squad car, handcuffs and all, and I sped off. I watched as other officers ran out after me, some trying to shoot out my tires, others tending to the downed rookie.

From this point on, I was clueless. I had no where to go, no one to turn to. I couldn't go home and I couldn't try and beg any members of my precinct for help. I was lost and confused, still trying to get the entire scenario through my head. I needed start somewhere, but as of this moment, I was a wanted man... I was royally fucked. The next time the officers found the squad car, it was abandoned at the docks, my handcuffs in the driver's-seat and pinned beneath it, was a badly scribbled note, saying;

"I'm innocent."


	3. Chapter II

_**Chaper II**_

"Frozen?" I asked, stunned. I was at the First Bank of New Vice--there I stood at the teller's window, unaware of what to say or do. I was in deep in a big way and apparently, the VCPD didn't want me to go anywhere because of it, "Can't you check again?" I asked the teller, for the umpteenth time,

"Mister Rae, I've checked your account over and over again, and by federal order, your account has been frozen." said the frustrated teller. I sighed, and ran my hand through my hair. I wasn't kidding when I said that I was royally fucked. I reluctantly thanked the teller and left the bank. Since I had escaped police custody, I had become on the edge of paranoid. Looking left and right everywhere I went. I was dazed and confused at what was presented to me. I was the prime and so far, only suspect in my brother's death. Sighing, I cautiously approached my '86 Sabre Turbo which was in the parking lot of the bank and got in. Turning on the ignition, the first thing that I picked up, as the car stereo came to life was the VCNR News Report, and the top story was my brother's assassination, with my escpae on top of it. I had felt betrayed... betrayed and framed, the only problem was, I didn't have the slightest clue as to who was behind it. As I sped out of the bank's parking lot, my cell phone rang--I pulled it out of my pocket and checked the caller ID. Flashing on the LCD screen of my phone, was; "Ryan.", God, I had forgotten about her. I flipped open the phone and held it to my ear, "Hello?" I asked,

"K-Kaden." muttered a tearful voice, "Kaden, what... w-what happened?", I had no time for her crocodile tears, especially not over the phone,

"Listen to me, Ryan. You are the last person that I want a speech of regret from." I said, gruffly, "Besides, I'm innocent. So, you're wasting your time on me." I prepared to end the call, forcefully, but before I could she got one final word in.

"No. No Kaden wait." she said, "I-I believe you. I know that you're innocent--I want to know what happened, who could do this to you?" I was stunned, "Listen. Come by my place, I know that you're on the run. Please Kaden, let me help you." that was when it struck me; this seemed too easy. Either Ryan was really being stupid enough to harbour a running convict, or this is all a trap being set up for me, by the VCPD, for the feds, or whoever else is trying to find me. However, the only hole in the logic behind the latter was the fact that no one knew about me and Ryan. At least as far as I know. Then and there, I decided to accept her offer of refuge,

"Alright, Ryan. I'm coming over." I said, "But if this is a trap of some kind..."

"No." she responded, "I would never do that to you.", it still seemed to me that she was laying it on a little thick... but I was desperate. As I cruised down the streets of Ocean Drive, I noticed something out of the ordinary. Lurking behind my Sabre, driving to a near crawl was a black Landstalker. I didn't know what to make of it, but after five years in the Marine Corps, I learned to take notice of a lot of things normal people might miss. The windscreen had a dark filter on it, so, it was difficult to make out who was behind the wheel, but I could tell that there was someone in the passenger's seat with them. I began to pick up the pace in my Sabre, and it looked as if the driver of the trailing Landstalker noticed, because the next thing I knew, he was quickly swerving into the nearest left-turn. He knew that I knew that he was following me--whoever he was, he was smart. I picked up even further; I was pushing fifty, but I had to slow down at intervals considering that I was in a thirty-five zone and I wanted to avoid interaction with the las much as possible. I knew that every cop in the city had an A.P.B. on me. As for the men in the Landstalker that were trailing me, I had a sneaking suspicion that they were going to find themselves close to me, once more. I pulled up in front of a stop light, and waiting for it to turn green, I anxiously tapped at the steering wheel. Once again, something appeared off, as the stop light seemed to be taking longer than usual. As if nothing else could appear out of the ordinary, I was taken by complete surprise, as speeding out of the alley that was on my left, came the familiar, black Landstalker. It pulled up in front of me, then the passenger's side window rolled down an inch or so, and the barrel of a 9mm semi-automatic, complete with suppressor poked out of the now ajar window.

I was only able to slip out an "Oh shit." as I ducked beneath the dashboard for cover, because that moment was all I had, as no longer than a second after I ducked, a shell fired from the barrel of the handgun flew straight through my windsheld and whizzed just above my head, being stopped by my driver's-seat headrest. One more shot was fired, followed by another and another, until soon, the shooter had fired no less than eight shots. There was then a dead pause... he was waiting for me to raise my head so that he could get off a fatal shot... however, I couldn't stand in this position for ever... I knew that some attention had to be attracted and a cop would be more than likely to approach my vehicle and the second he would see me, it woulf be over. I had to think, and I had to think fast. I remember the pistol I had taken from the rookie during my escape, but I was going to blindly shoot at someone, that I didn't even know was still there or not. I had to get out of there somehow. In a fit of desperation, I grabbed onto the steering wheel from my lowered position and stepped onto the gas pedal... I was going to have to drive right through these guys. My tires screeched against the asphalt of the road and my car sped forward. The next thing I remembered was the sound of crunching metal as I thought that I had hit the Landstalker. I poked my head out, and noticed that I had indeed forced my way past the Landstalker. I soon sped off, the front bumper and grill of my Sabre barely hanging onto the front of the chassis. However, I wasn't rid of my attackers. Pulling up to my right was the Landstalker--this time, the passenger's windor was rolled down all of the way and I stared the shooter in the face, as he aimed his pistol right at me. This time, however, I could see exactly who I had to fire at, so I snatched up the rookie's pistol from the passenger's seat and took aim, before letting off some shots of my own at my attacker. Soon, he and I were trading bullets in a high-speed, side-to-side chase down Ocean Drive.

I could see the holes in the side of his vehicle, and figured that I had to be hitting soe part of his body. Then, he fired a shot that managed to clip me; the round propelled itself into my shoulder and I shouted out because of it. However, I got one up on him, as I fired one last round of my own. Even though my now unsteady arm had caused the bullet to completely bypass the shooter, it managed to somehow nail the driver right in the temple. I counted that as pure luck, but I accepted that victory, no matter how it came. With no driver to keep control of it, the Landstalker spun out of control and careened towards the direction of the beach. After ploughing through a concrete wall the seperated the beach from the road, the SUV fumbled over the sand and into the water. I sped off, feeling a slight sense of victory, but the chunk of lead lodged into my shoulder kept me from feeling anything too significant. I dropped my pistol, as I felt my arm give way. I was a fucking goner, if I didn't get help soon.

--

I knocked on the front door of Ryan's beach-side condo. I clutched my right arm in agony, sweat running down my face and neck. If I didn't get help in the next few minutes, I was going to collapse, and shortly after, die. Ryan opened the door in a panic. She screamed my name, and I waddled into her apartment, groaning.

"My God, Kaden, what happened?" she asked, while examining my shoulder-wound,

"Someone... tried... to k-kill me..." I spat out, throwing my sweaty, bloody heap onto her sofa. She commanded that I get to a supine position, which I did. In my blurry vision, I saw her run into her room, then re-emerge moments later, a kit of some kind in her hand. She set it down and opened it--it was a surgical kit, "You're a surgeon?" I asked in my groggy state.

"Yeah... you would've known that, had you actually gone out with me." she said, a smirk on her face. From her kit, she grabbed a bottle of surgical alcohol, a scalpel, a lighter and a pair of latex gloves. She slipped on the gloves, followed by her cleaning around the area of my wound with the alcohol and a cotton swab. She picked up the finely sharpened scalpel and held it to the area in which the bullet was lodged in my shoulder. The next thing I felt was what I could appropriately describe as a blade slicing at my skin, followed by a sharp yanking in my arm. I held in breath and screams of pain throughout the entire ordeal. The last thing I heard before I knew it was over was the clink of a 9mm bullet being dropped into a small, metal dish.

"Shit." I said, before blacking out for a moment.


End file.
